


August 17, 1995

by holdbythenotsharp



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: First Kiss, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, No Beta - We Die Like Meh, Religious Guilt, Stupid Teen Boys Being Stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25945495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdbythenotsharp/pseuds/holdbythenotsharp
Summary: It's the summer before their senior year and the tension is as high as the temperature, as a fishing trip takes a turn.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46





	August 17, 1995

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Apparentlynotreallyfinnish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish/gifts).



> Happy birthday to my idol and friend, Apparentlynotreallyfinnish! May your year be full of joy, creativity and love. I wrote you a silly, little thing, hope you enjoy it.

The temperature is in the high 90s and everything feels thick and sluggish, like the whole world is suspended in high-fructose corn syrup. Link tries to adjust the visor in his pickup truck to block the late afternoon sun from hitting his eyes, but its bright glare is impossible to escape. It’s been a summer to remember: endlessly long, scorching hot and filled with camping trips, days at the beach and bonfire nights. Now the summer is nearing its end and he is wistful, almost prematurely nostalgic for it, which in turn is making him feel a little guilty. The senior year of high school is about to start, and he should be excited. And he is, obviously he’s happy to go back to school as a senior, he just wants to make sure that he’s making the most of what’s left of the summer. He’s excited to go fishing tonight, that’s for sure. Link smiles to himself as he nods his head lazily along the tunes on the radio, as his car flies along a road winding through forests and fields.

_There were many nights I'd sit right there and look out at the stars_  
_To the sound of a distant whippoorwill or the hum of a passing car_  
_It was where I first got up the nerve to steal me my first kiss_  
_And it was where I learned to play guitar and pray I had the gift_

Link pulls up in front of his best friend’s house and honks his horn. He knows Jim hates it, and will probably give Rhett grief about it, but what the heck. Today is a good day to be young and rebellious. A lanky boy with a fresh buzzcut and a backpack over his shoulder steps out of the house and moseys over to the car.

“Hey, Rhett,” Link greets the boy opening the passenger side door and throwing his backpack in before climbing in himself, but gets no reply. Link doesn’t mind. He doesn’t need to talk anyway, they can just drive, listen to music and coexist peacefully, as they often do.

Link drives and the radio fills in for conversation. They speed through the country roads trailing along Cape Fear, all the way up to Chatham County without talking.

_I hope you understand I always did_  
_The best that I could do_  
_So little time, and we spent way too much apart_  
_Now there will always be a part of us_  
_Together in that car_

By the time Link turns off the paved road onto a dirt road leading to the riverbank, the silence has become heavy. He figures it’s as good a time for a serious conversation as any, since he’s had to slow down anyway, he can probably spare some attention from driving.

“What’s crawled up your butt?” He gets no response and when he sneaks a sideways glance at his friend, he finds Rhett staring ahead, clearly with no intention of answering. For a minute he thinks maybe Rhett didn’t hear him, but the way the boy has cinched his mouth into a tight line reveals the answer is there, just waiting to be let out. “Rhett?”

“Nothin’.” The word comes out strained, like it takes a lot of effort to squeeze between pursed lips. It’s a lie, of course it is, and nobody's buying it.

Link sighs. He was having a perfectly nice day, he really was, and this fool is going to make him get into a fight any minute now. It would be so much easier, if Rhett could just spill whatever it is that’s bothering him, like he must know he’ll have to eventually. Making Link work for it is just unnecessarily bratty.

“C’mon, man. What is it?”

“I told you, it’s nothing! Why are you always like that, pickin’ on me, buggin’ me to share, and talk about my _feelings_ or some dumb crap like that. Nothing’s wrong and we ain’t got nothin’ to talk about.”

“Well, I sure hope we got _somethin’_ to talk about, otherwise…”

“Stop it! We’re men, and men can sit in a car, drive around and go fishin’ without having to blab constantly.”

“But I like talking to ya! When you’re not being a jackass, that is. You’re my best friend.”

“Stop being so clingy, man, you’re actin’ weird and needy. I’m tellin’ ya, you gotta toughen up. As your friend, I’m tellin’ ya, we’re gonna go to college soon and I can’t always be around to protect you. You gotta watch how you act, so people won’t pick on you and think you’re something… something that you’re not.”

“What the heck are you talking about? Protect me from what, what makes you think I need protectin’?”

“Oh, for gosh sakes, don’t act so dense. You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t, though.” Link is outraged and having a hard time focusing on driving. Their speed has slowed down and the pickup rolls languidly over small bumps in the road.

“You know what people say, dontcha, when you act like, like, like you do sometimes. Like you’re too effeminate for your own good. And you know, how that makes me look by association. People think we’re weird, man, like there’s something wrong with us! Just 'cause you gotta goof around like a moron and not act like a man, they think you’re — that we’re _both_ , you know… Gay.”

“What?! I’m not —” Link slams the brakes and both their bodies jerk forward in their seats.

“I know you’re not! But they don’t know! And how are they supposed to know, really, when you can’t even…”

“Can’t even what, Rhett? Please elaborate on how exactly other people talkin’ crap about me behind my back is my fault, and something to be mad at me over?”

“Some people from church asked my dad about it, okay? They asked if he knew what his son was up to. If I was like that, ‘cause I was runnin’ around with that queer Neal kid, seemin’ awfully close to him and all. And my dad came home and yelled at me, askin’ me what on earth was wrong with me, and if I wanted to go to Hell. I tried to tell him it wasn’t our fault, that we weren’t doing anything wrong, and who cares what they say anyway. But you know how he gets, he went on that ‘no son of mine’ rant, told me to watch myself and threatened to whoop my ass, if I ever gave those people anythin' more to talk about. And yeah, it kinda sucks that those people didn’t just mind their own business, but my dad has sort of a point, too. We don’t need that kinda reputation.”

Link stays uncharacteristically quiet during Rhett’s outburst, leaning his cheek on his hand, staring out of the driver’s side window, eyes glazed over. He barely hears Rhett’s final words. Outside a gentle wind from the river rustles the tall hickory trees, and the sun is finally starting to dip behind the treeline. In the car a song neither of the boys pays attention to plays on the radio.

_It was no accident me finding you_  
_Someone had a hand in it_  
_Long before we ever knew_

“What if I’m not sure?” Link blurts out, immediately wishing he could take it back, just inhale the words deep into his lungs, absorb them into his bloodstream and never let them escape again.

“Sure about what, Link?” Rhett stares wide-eyed and Link knows it’s over. The lie, their friendship, his whole life as he knows it is over and done with. He tries to delay the inevitable, pretending his attention is suddenly caught by a tanager flying by, fully knowing how pathetic and futile it is. Something about Rhett’s silence is different, his anticipation is hanging over Link’s head and the air inside the car is dense. Link decides he needs to rip the bandaid, even if it hurts, even if he’ll bleed.

“Not sure if I am.” The words are all breath, no voice, but Rhett hears them still, the telling way his breathing stutters not going unnoticed. “Gay, I mean,” Link offers, knowing it’s not really necessary to elaborate, just to fill the air.

“What do you mean, you’re not sure? How can you not be sure?” Rhett’s voice carries more compassion than Link could have imagined in his wildest dreams, and he has to brave a glance towards his friend to make sure his face matches the tone of his words. Rhett avoids eye contact but his features are soft and hands restful on his lap.

“I just. I don’t know. I didn’t think I was, I didn’t wanna be.” Link turns his face towards the side window again. _The way you make me feel made me rethink that_ , he wants to say, but of course he doesn’t. “But maybe I just am. I haven’t _done_ anything, obviously, so I’m not sure how I’d feel about actually...” he trails off.

The thing is, the more he’s thought about it, the more certain he is about how he’d actually feel. The more he’s thought about it, the more desperately he wants it. But he supposes there is a hypothetical possibility it could be terrible, and he’d end up wanting girls after all.

“How long have ya felt like that?”

“A while.” Link shrugs, not wanting to explore the thought any further, or to remember the first beat his heart skipped because of Rhett.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything, bo?” Rhett’s words and the way they come out, all raspy and broken, leave Link reeling to maintain his composure.

“Didn’t want you to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. I could never.”

“You were just mad at me for _actin’_ gay, I’d imagine _bein’_ gay’s heck of a lot worse than that.”

“I was just... It’s my dad.” Rhett groans and rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t let it get to me, I don’t know why I… I was scared of being found out, I guess.”

The words take a while to register and when they do, Link is stunned. He stares at Rhett, blinking furiously and swallowing air, trying to find the right words to say, or any words at all, really.

“I thought if I just acted like the perfect son,” Rhett continues, before Link has a chance to interject. “If I never gave ‘em trouble or grief, met a nice girl and tried real hard to be a great husband, it would go away. If I just didn’t act on it, and stopped thinkin’ about it, it would stop existin’.”

“Wait, what?” Link just wants to make sure, like crystal clear, he understands what his best friend is saying.

“I think I might be in love with somebody. A boy. And I don’t know if I can keep it in anymore.” Rhett blushes and looks down at his hands.

“Oh.” It hurts, of course it freaking hurts. This isn’t how Link envisioned this conversation going, but somehow this is worse than getting beat up for being a queer. Bruises are skin deep, but this cuts right through him. He hadn’t known bones could ache, but there it is, a dull pain reverberating deep inside him.

“I don’t know if he likes me back. I used to think he never could, but now I’m not sure.” Rhett’s words barely carry through the buzzing in Link’s ears. “Even if he doesn’t — if he doesn’t like me like that, I still hope we can stay friends.”

Link stares at Rhett, who has scooted closer in his seat and leans on the center console. Some country ballad is playing in the background and Rhett’s gravity is pulling Link in irresistibly.

_Maybe we'll never be seen together_  
_At night on a crowded street_  
_I may never reach across your body_  
_And kill the light when you're asleep_

Link can feel Rhett’s lips on his before they meet. When they do, they slot together perfectly and he is absolutely sure of everything, most of all of being gay. He opens his lips to welcome Rhett’s tongue, smooth like a river stone, and his mouth fills with the taste of Rhett.

Link’s hands are gripping the center console, when Rhett lays his hand on them, and Link’s skin catches fire under the touch. The hand is trembling and a little moist, but the touch is intoxicating all the same. Link drinks Rhett in until there is no room for air in his throat, and he is drowning, forgetting his name, until Rhett breathes it into him again.

“Link.”

Link pulls back and looks at Rhett in the eyes, really for the first time all day. Maybe for the first time ever, he thinks, trying to decide if they have always been that bright green or if it’s just the golden light playing tricks on him. Rhett lifts the hand that isn’t busy clamming up Link’s hands to his cheek and wipes at something wet.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers.

“I’m not,” Link replies and lowers his gaze, but Rhett hunches down to catch it again, not letting Link off the hook that easily.

And so what, if he did cry a little, Link thinks, this is a huge deal. They might be condemning themselves to eternal damnation, for all they know, if they choose to go down this road. They’d probably get shunned by their families too, and the church. What kind of a future could they even build as outcasts and miscreants?

“Hey. Hey, Link,” Rhett whispers again and interlocks his fingers with Link’s on the console. It’s mildly calming, but not enough to entirely silence the voice of anxiety in Link’s head.

“Are we makin’ a mistake? Do you wanna take it back? ‘Cause we can, still, we can pretend like it never happened, and ask God for forgiveness for trespassing. That way we don’t have to — we can just go back to being _normal_ , you know? Do you want that?”

“Don’t think I could if I wanted to, and why would I?”

“Aren’t ya scared we’re goin’ to Hell?”

“Naw, I don’t reckon Hell is real. Or if it is, surely you can’t get sent there for lovin’ too much.”

“No?”

“Ain’t a sin to love, bo. And the only thing worth anythin’ to me anyhow, is that wherever we go, we goin’ together.”

_Do you love me, do you want to be my friend?_  
_And if you do_  
_Well then don't be afraid to take me by the hand_  
_If you want to_  
_I think this is how love goes_  
_Check yes or no_

**Author's Note:**

> Songs mentioned:  
> Tracy Lawrence - If the World Had a Front Porch  
> Jeff Carson - The Car  
> Tracy Byrd - The Keeper of the Stars  
> Aaron Tippin - That's as Close as I'll Get to Loving You  
> George Strait - Check Yes Or No


End file.
